


By choice

by TerresDeBrume



Series: Flash Fic Night Prompts [45]
Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Inappropriately located first kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 07:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13631733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerresDeBrume/pseuds/TerresDeBrume
Summary: “I guess I see what you mean,” Shaina says when silence falls back again. “You and me pining. Seiya, half dead in a bed between us. Add some rain and we’ll make a novel out of this.”





	By choice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my flash fic nights (Valentines' edition) over on Tumblr... see the 'rules' post [here](http://terresdebrumestories.tumblr.com/post/170681571418/flash-fic-nights-valentines-edition) if you want to prompt anything :)

“We really need to stop meeting like this.”

  
  


With a deep inhale, Marin drags herself back from the edge of sleep and readjusts the set of her feet on Seiya’s bedside. Shaina smells like a wet dog and drips like one too, plocs of muddy water punctuating her step until she drags a chair to the other side of the bed and all but pours herself on it.

  
  


“I don’t know,” Marin says, careful to loosen her shoulders, “sometimes I think it’s sort of Romantic.”

  
  


Seiya’s shift and muffled whine cover the sound of Shaina’s snort, but that doesn’t prevent Marin from seeing it. They sit in silence while Seiya mutters something about mangoes, his heavily bandaged everything rustling against the mattress of the hospital bed until the morphine pulls him back under.

  
  


“I guess I see what you mean,” Shaina says when silence falls back again. “You and me pining. Seiya, half dead in a bed between us. Add some rain and we’ll make a novel out of this.”

“Pining?”

  
  


Shaina’s eyes leave Seiya’s face for the briefest second, life flickering back into them with the faint impression of a grin before she’s back behind a mask she can’t take off. The green of her eyes turns almost silver with moonlight, but it’s her lips Marin finds herself watching when Shaina says:

  
  


“He broke my mask, and I can’t seem to kill him. Them’s the rules.”

  
  


The words saunter in the air, flippant as anything and sharper than blades, but Marin is too familiar with that tone to flinch from it. She chews at her lips for a moment, closing her eyes to catch the memory of twin eyes and goofy grins so similar she isn’t even embarrassed she confused them. Silence stretches between them, Seiya’s heart monitor beeping in the night, and it almost seems they’ll finish the night like this when Marin finally makes herself ask:

  
  


“Do you ever wish it’d been your choice? To show your face?”

“As if I’d have let him see me by choice.”

  
  


Shaina pokes at Seiya’s right shoulder with her bare foot, and smirks at Marin as if she could see her glare through the mask. Seiya, too far gone to care, huffs and sighs, but doesn’t stir. Marin lets Shaina’s expression hang between them for a moment more. Her metal mask, stuffy and uncomfortable by nature, grows heavier still, clammy cheeks begging for air even as she rephrases:

  
  


“Do you ever wish someone could have seduced you into showing them your face?”

“Why?” Shaina’s lips ask with a knowing fold. “Do you?”

  
  


Marine’s throat ache when she swallows, something sharp and dangerous caught against her larynx. Blocking her words. When Shaina moves, Marin’s eyes follow her like fishes on a hook. She watches the other Saint go around the head of Seiya’s bed, breathes in—and in, and in, and in—when she walks up to the side of Marin’s chair. Sitting with her feet on the bed was a stupid idea. No way she’ll be able to dodge an attack now.

She watches Shaina’s fingers reach for her face with the inexorable slowness of lava, eyes riveted to the woman’s lips as the air under her mask tips from a slow simmer to an outright boil. There are fingernails under her mask now, wedged against the edge of her jaw. Shaina’s knuckles brush against Marin’s pulse when she gives the mask a little tug.

  
  


“If I were a man,” Shaina starts, voice pitched low enough to pour heat in Marin’s belly, “would you let me see your face?”

“As if I’d let a man see me,” Marin says.

  
  


The mask comes off with the rush of fresh air in a stale house.

  
  


Shaina’s smirk tastes awfully smug.

  
  


Marin can’t get enough of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and reviews make me want to keep writing <3


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